


The Inevitability Of Falling

by geniewrites



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, F/M, Identity Reveal, Might be a bit of angst, a side order of hurt/comfort, alix is our fave aro/ace, also chloe is actually cool in this, also fair warning i tend to vanish for weeks at a time, alya is also bi, background Julerose - Freeform, background marc/nathaniel, basically everyone honestly, chat purrs and it's adorable, everything is a lil bit of a mess, its mainly fluff if im honest, its teen bc i swear like a sailor tho i tried to hold back, marinette is our fave bi, to like 17/18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geniewrites/pseuds/geniewrites
Summary: You don't get to choose when or how you fall, but you can decide where you land.Or rather, Adrien and Marinette are completely in love, and completely oblivious. Alya schemes, Nino just wants everyone to be happy, Tikki ships it, Plagg is done with Adrien's pining and Chloe is a not-so useless lesbian.





	1. Chapter 1

Deep cobalt stretched over the canvas of the Parisian night sky, intertwining with the swirling clouds and freckled with sparkling stars. The city glittered, truly embodying its City of Lights title as each lamplight and glowing window formed constellations in the streets. The Eiffel Tower stood proudly, contrasting the velveteen darkness of the sky beautifully as it shone like a beacon. A figure sat perched on the metal structure, her legs swinging gently as she gazed down at the city spread out before her. Her city. A soft breezed ruffled her dark hair and cupped her face, brushing past her as it carried the remaining warmth of the autumn day away. A sigh escaped her parted lips. Up here, away from the hubbub and hustle of the busy streets, she could always find an escape. An oasis of calm separate from her civilian life and superhero duties. Just her and the sky and the tower –

A muffled _thump_ sounded behind her.

…And the cat.

“Good evening, m’lady,” Chat Noir said, a smirk evident in his voice. A smile tugged at the corner of Ladybug’s mouth, and she twisted to observe him. Hair tousled by the swiftly cooling wind settled in a messy mop atop his head, his lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Hey, kitty,” Ladybug replied, and turned back to face the city. She heard him move, and he dropped down beside her, shifting his legs until they were settled beneath him and he was pressed against her side. The dotted superhero rolled her eyes, pushing him away by the nose. He laughed, edging away and letting a leg dangle over the edge. Humming quietly, he slowly swung his leg back and forth.

“How was your day, Chat?” Ladybug asked, watching as her partner absentmindedly tapped out a rhythm on the metal beneath them.

“Eh. How good can a day really be? It was boring and full of work. I’m more interested in you, buginette.” He winked at her, leaning in to invade her personal space as he so often did. She giggled, tapping his nose in admonishment.

“Well, kitty, my day wasn’t that different. School, then helping my parents out, then homework, and now I’m here. Actually,” she added, fingers drifting to her hip, “I really needed to get out and run, you know?”

Chat nodded understandingly, eyes turned to the scenic view as he failed to notice her unclipping her yo-yo. She let it unravel slightly, keeping it carefully out of his line of sight.

“So, I figured, why not see if a certain stray can catch me?” Before he had a chance to react, Ladybug tossed her yo-yo ahead of her and swung away, giggling at her partner's unimpressed shout as he scrambled to follow.

Landing easily on an elegantly sloped roof, her feet pounded the dark tiles underfoot. She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, weaving her way through Paris, listening out for the tell-tale thumps of Chat’s heavy boots. Pausing momentarily, she observed her surroundings, waiting for the slightest movement. A shift in the shadows to her left caught her eye, and she grinned, looping her yo-yo around a chimney and swinging onto the next roof. Leaping across to the next home, she glanced behind her and watched as Chat vaulted over her head and landed in front of her.

“Gotcha,” he smirked, his arms casually settled on the baton resting across his shoulders. As he sauntered towards her, Ladybug readied her yo-yo to throw.

“I don’t think so, kitty –”

He pounced.

With his arms wrapped around her waist, she squeaked as she was knocked off balance. Chat grinned cheekily, holding her gaze. “I win.”

She rolled her eyes, and scratched gently under his chin, chuckling as he purred quietly. “Silly kitty.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, both moving to sit on the roof’s edge. Ladybug’s legs folded beneath her, and Chat pulled away to dangle his feet over the side. He leaned back and sighed softly. The pair looked over the city, listening to the faint buzz of activity and finding calm in the late hour. The dotted heroine hummed, the feline superhero’s fingers danced to a tune only her could hear, and the cobalt sky faded into black.

Chat tilted his head, studying his partner thoughtfully. “Let’s play a game,” he said, and Ladybug arched an eyebrow, meeting his eyes.

“Have a particular game in mind?” She questioned, turning to face him fully.

He tapped his chin with a claw, a pensive look crossing his features as his gaze drifted out of Paris. “Never Have I Ever?” He suggested, shrugging slightly. She hummed, considering. Any information regarding their civilian identities was dangerous, but it had been almost 5 years since they’d met, and she knew next to nothing about him. Sure, she had learned tiny tidbits, like his favourite colour (blue), and what his kwami ate (camembert, which had to suck – that cheese smells), but other than that she was clueless. Frankly, she _wanted_ to know more.

“Okay,” she agreed, and Chat sat up straight. “But only for five rounds, and nothing –”

“That would reveal our identities, I know,” he interrupted eagerly, as they both raised a hand each. “I’ll go first. Never have I ever… had a sleepover.”

“ _Really_?” Ladybug wondered incredulously, lowering a finger. “Why not?”

Chat shrugged. “Father’s always kept me very sheltered.” He explained, shrugging. She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing, considering her questions.

“Never have I ever had a crush on someone of the same sex.” Both put a finger down. “Well aren’t we a couple of bisexual messes?”

“Did you just call us a couple, buginette?” He drawled, listing into her personal bubble with a wiggle of his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes, a smile quirking the corners of her mouth as she pointedly turned his face away with a jab at his nose.

“Down boy,” she ordered.

The game continued, each surprisingly lacking in experiences, until Ladybug secured her win. “Never have I ever been controlled by an akuma,” she grinned. Chat groaned, putting down his last finger.

“Low blow, LB,” he said as she raised her arms in victory.

“What can I say, I’m a winner, Chat,” she smirked. “And this cold, mean, game-winning machine is leaving on a high.” With a wink and a wave, she cast out her yo-yo, swinging off into the night. Chat watched her go, a soft look in his eyes.

“Sweet dreams, bugaboo,” he sighed wistfully, before vaulting away.

 

* * *

 

Marinette silently swung herself onto her balcony, glancing around furtively before dropping the transformation. “I know what you’re going to say, Tikki,” she said before the kwami even opened her mouth, “but knowing some experiences we have or haven’t had isn’t going to reveal our identities.”

“I know, Marinette,” Tikki shrugged, “and you know to be careful. I trust you.” Marinette smiled softly at her kwami, cupping her in her hands as the tiny god nestled against her cheek.

“Thanks, Tikki.” Tikki patted her face gently, before zipping away through the trapdoor.

Marinette turned and leaned against the railing, gazing out at the night. The sky was beginning to lighten, swirls of colour intermingling with the inky darkness. The stars still twinkled above, though their light had begun to pale as sunrise neared. As she hummed quietly, her eyes caught movement on the roof across from her, and she straightened up slightly as green eyes landed on her. In a second, Chat had vaulted over to her roof and landed noiselessly beside her.

“What’s a _purr_ -etty girl like you doing out so late?” He smirked, leaning sideways on his baton.

“I could ask you the same question, alley cat,” Marinette retorted, folding her arms and arching a brow at him. He pressed a hand above his heart, feigning offense.

“Can’t a cat check up on his favourite civilian?” He paused. “Wait, did you just call me pretty?”

She rolled her eyes, marching over and tapping his nose. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You know you love me.”

“You wish, tomcat,” she teased, scratching his chin and giggling as his eyes fluttered closed and rumbled with a faint purr. They stood like that for a moment, content in the silence that was only interrupted by the hero’s purring.

Peeling one eye open, Chat groaned as his Miraculous beeped. “Alas, your knight in shining leather has to leave,” he declared, stepping back and bowing with a flourish. “Sweet dreams, Marinette.”

“Goodnight, Chat,” she smiled, and he vaulted away, pausing once to glance back and wave before disappearing. Shaking her head, she turned to head over to the hatch, but paused as she met Tikki’s eyes. “What?” She asked. Tikki shrugged, looking away with an unreadable smile.

“Nothing,” the kwami replied, her voice suspiciously light. “Nothing at all.”

Marinette eyed the floating god, before unlocking the window and dropping down onto her bed. She was too exhausted to be dealing with the tiny deity’s scheming. As she drifted off to sleep, a thought occurred to her.

_How do you purr, anyway?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so fair warning everyone might be a tad ooc, i wanna do them all justice and im trying but i joined the fandom last month im a newbie okay  
> also when i say chips you say 'fries' and i know i tagged ladrien bc i wanna try my hand at each side of the love square but i have no clue how to incorporate it yet  
> hit me up if you have any prompts yall


	2. Chapter 2

“Girl, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Alya, I have nothing to wear, my hair is a mess and I’m _absolutely_ going to fall flat on my face.” Phone wedged between cheek and shoulder, Marinette held up two shirts in front of her mirror. Making a face, she dropped her arms with a groan and hung the clothes back up.

“I’m sure none of that is true,” Alya said reassuringly.

“When do I not trip?”

A pause. “I thought you said you were getting over him.”

“I _am_! I just…” She trailed off, fingers drifting over floral dresses and pastel skirts. “I’ve been crushing on him since the day I met him, I can’t get over that in a week.”

“I know. And no one is expecting you to, either, but worrying will get you nowhere. Besides, you always look amazing, girl.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re my best friend, you’re _supposed_ to say that.” Still, she couldn’t help the tiny smile that wormed itself onto her face.

“Skype me, and I’ll _prove_ you look great,” Alya declared, the challenge obvious in her voice. Marinette raised an eyebrow, ending the call and switching to Skype. Alya answered immediately, the picture stuttering faintly before her face filled her phone screen. Slightly crooked glasses perched on her nose, hair pinned in a half-finished ponytail, Alya grinned as her eyes met Marinette’s.

“Hey there, hot stuff,” she winked, and Marinette burst out laughing. She moved to the closet, pulling out two dresses and pulling a questioning face at her phone. Alya tilted her head, considering, before pointing out the dress still displayed on the mannequin behind her.

“That wasn’t an option, Alya,” Marinette rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation, but rehung the dresses she’d picked out, propped the phone up on her desk and gently removed her creation from its display.

“But it looks so good!” Alya argued. “Seriously, girl, go with that.”

Marinette eyed the dress contemplatively, running a finger along the recently finished beading along the neckline. It was a tad dressy for the cinema, she reckoned, but trying it on wouldn’t hurt. Tugging off her top, she pulled the dress on headfirst and slipped her arms through its braided straps, shifting the asymmetrical skirt to float neatly around her legs. _Maybe Alya’s right_ , Marinette pondered, twisting from side to side.

“Of course I am!” Alya chimed in. Marinette jumped. _Did I say that out loud?_ “That pink to blue ombre is giving me major bi vibes, girl!”

Giggling, Marinette struck a pose. “Oh no, am I rubbing it in people’s faces?”

The friends laughed, and she crossed the room, moving her phone to her vanity and rummaged around her makeup bag. Carefully swiping on some clear gloss, she rolled her eyes as Alya jokingly booed her boring makeup choices, before finishing off her own face and hair. Pulling her hair back into her trademark bunches, she fastened them and gently tugged out some framing strands. Her eyes drifted to watch Alya apply her own makeup, propping her chin up on her hand. Her hand swiftly flicked at each corner of her eye, achieving matching cat eyes with the kind of ease Marinette could only wish for.

“So, what are you wearing?” Marinette inquired, momentarily leaving her dressing table to grab her bag off her desk and check she had everything she needed. _Purse, keys, lip gloss for any touch-ups… Tikki?_

Glancing behind her, she scrutinised the room, and just caught a flash of red tucked away behind her sewing machine. Turning to face her kwami, she gestured to her bag, and Tikki zipped inside, a cookie in either hand. Marinette giggled. _Me too, Tikki._

"Hmm? Oh, I got this awesome top last week, it’s this super cute orange crop top and the straps at the back cross over it’s _so cool_ – here, hang on, I’ll put it on.” Alya disappeared off-screen as Marinette walked back round to pick up her phone. A few seconds passed, and she came back into view, untwisting the top’s straps so they flat. “Just how hot do I look, girl?”

“ _Alya_.” The crop top shimmered with every movement, glitter seemingly interwoven with the fabric. It’s scallop trim flattered her immensely, and _orange_ just didn’t cover it. Shades of tangerine and tiger and apricot and honey swirled around each other, as if the creator had been indulging in water marbling. “That’s _gorgeous_.”

“I know.”

Marinette secured her bag more thoroughly on her shoulder. “Right, I’m going to head out now. Meet you at the cinema?”

“You got it, girl.” And the call ended. She slipped her phone into her bag, gently stroked the top of Tikki’s head, and left.

 

* * *

 

Bright, white clouds filled the sky overhead, blocking the sun from shining with its usual radiance, replacing it with their own kind of glow. _Sort of like light through a milk jug_ , Marinette remarked idly, her fingers twisting and untwisting the skirt of her dress. She waited on the steps of Cinéma du Panthéon, as rain started to filter slowly down. She didn’t mind, though. Thunderstorms had been her second love – after designing. Adrien appeared to be of a differing opinion, she noticed, as she spotted him speed walking towards her. Unlike her, he’d forgotten an umbrella, and as soon as he joined her on the steps he ducked beneath hers.

“Ugh,” he said eloquently, “I hate rain.”

Marinette raised an unimpressed brow. “Really, Adrien? It’s just _water_.”

“Technically, it’s extremely diluted acid,” he corrected, “but that doesn’t matter, because it’s _wet_ _and_ _horrible_.”

“You do realise that _wet and horrible_ stuff makes up about 60% of you?” She stated. Adrien gave her a look.

“Of course I do! I chose the scientific baccalaureate!” He huffed, and she giggled. Catching her eye, he broke out into a smile that would steal the sun’s spotlight, and her heart stuttered. _No!_ She chastised herself. _Bad heart!_

“Hey girl! Sorry we’re late, we got… distracted!” Alya’s voice said from right next to her ear, making her jump. Alya smirked at her, glancing between her and Adrien, and Marinette rolled her eyes as she pulled her in for a hug. 

“Distracted? Do I _even_ want to know!” Adrien said, eying Nino’s slightly rumpled top and flushed cheeks.

“Probably not, dude,” he grinned, patting the blond on the back as he moved up the steps. The boys took the lead, and Marinette took a second to carefully swipe a thumb under Alya’s somewhat smudged lipstick. The friends linked arms and followed the boys in.

 

* * *

 

“What… was… that?”

“C’mon, Adrien, _Becassine!_ is a classic,” Alya said defensively, hands on her hips. “Literally, the comic was first published in 1905.”

“I’m a fan of the 1940s film, myself,” Marinette chimed in, arm now wrapped around a large bucket of sweet popcorn. She stealthily shoved a handful into her mouth as they walked along the street, crunching quietly.

“Personally, I’m more of a ‘ _Bécassine, le trésor viking_ ’ kind of guy,” Nino added. The group froze, three sets of eyes turning on him, and he shrugged. “What?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” Alya said.

Nino gaped. “For what?”

“That film was shit Nino.” She folded her arms, jutting her chin out defiantly as she stalked off. “I’ve never felt so _betrayed_.”

He sidled up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing his lips to her ear. “Anything I can do to make it up to you?” He murmured, and her eyes darted to meet his as she ran a finger down his chest.

“I can think of a few things…”

“ _Ew_!” Marinette cried, grabbing a handful of popcorn and flinging it at the couple. “Get a room!”

“Leave room for Jesus!” Adrien hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. Nino chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Alya’s head.

The two ended up leading their friends to a nearby rustic restaurant, the couple quickly claiming one side of table for themselves. Not wanting to intrude on _that_ particular sandwich – though she probably wouldn’t say no if they asked – Marinette slid onto the bench opposite. Adrien joined her, his knee gently bumping hers. Using the menus, she tapped the pair opposite her on the heads, quickly handing them the list before opening her own and moving it to lay between her and Adrien.

Shifting slightly to get a look, he peered down at the menu. “I’m liking the look of those chips,” he commented, pointing at a photo featured.

“Those chips look so good, they’d give you a run for your money on the catwalk,” Marinette replied. He pressed a hand above his heart, shock written all over his face.

“I’ll have you know these chips are _small fry_ compared to me.” 

“Careful, Adrien, you’re acting like you’ve got a _chip_ on your shoulder.”

“Well that was just _chip_.”

“And that was a stretch.”

“Oh my god, you two were made for each other.” An unimpressed voice huffed. The four teenagers looked up and met the eyes of a certain mayor’s daughter.

“Chloe?” Marinette said, surprise evident in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“For your information, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, _I_ am on a date,” Chloe sniffed. It was only then that they noticed the hand wrapped in Chloe’s. At her side was a tall, pretty girl, with tightly curled brown hair occasionally streaked with pastel green pinned into a bun. A few strands escaped to bounce around her face, framing her sparkling black eyes and mischievous grin.

Marinette rolled her eyes, her face utterly deadpan. “We’ve been friends for two years, Chloe, why do you keep calling me that?” Turning to face the girl, she smiled kindly. “Hi, what’s your name?”

“Mauve,” the girl beamed. “So, _this_ is Mari, huh?” She said, eying Chloe with a gentle nudge. “I see what you mean, she _is_ super gorgeous.”

Marinette flushed, clearing her throat awkwardly. “This is –”

“Nino, who loves music; Alya, the aspiring journalist; and Adrien, golden boy,” Mauve finished, nodding at each in turn. “Don’t worry, Chlo’s told me _a lot_ about you guys.” She winked at them, and Chloe held her head high.

“They’re my friends, of course I talk about them.”

“ _Golden_ boy?”

“Shut it, Dupain-Cheng.”

A short conversation later, Chloe and Mauve made to leave to continue their date, but Chloe quickly turned back to them. “Adrien, don’t you know what the time is?”

Glancing at the clock hanging above them, he sighed. “ _Shoot_. Literally.” He winked and shot the group finger guns as he stood.

“Nice one,” Mauve commented appreciatively as Nino chuckled, Chloe groaned, Alya rolled her eyes with a smirk and Marinette hid her smile behind her drink. He took off with a wave, the couple moving to a different table for their date. She watched him go fondly, and as she met Alya’s suggestive eye she flushed slightly.

"What?”

Alya shook her head, smirking. “Oh, nothing, girl. You’re obviously done with crushing on ‘golden boy’. Totally.”

“Oh, shush,” Marinette said, grabbing a chip from the tiny woven basket that had magically appeared while she was distracted and throwing it at her friend. Alya leaned forward quickly, catching it between her teeth and throwing her hands up in victory. Nino cheered her on, and Marinette laughed. While Nino began to toss chips in the air for his girlfriend to catch, she found her thoughts drifting to a certain blonde.

_How did Chloe manage to get a girlfriend, and why hasn’t she told me her secret?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so im relying on wikipedia for info on france but cinema du pantheon is a real place and la gueuze is what i based the restaurant on  
> also is the baccalaureate thing right?? should he take it instead of choose it??? im v confused the french educational system is fucking odd  
> and i threw in chloe last second so uhhh apologies if it seems weird


	3. Chapter 3

Marinette smiled pleasantly as she handed the customer their purchase. She thanked them politely as they left, listening as the bell above the door jingled as she sighed, resting her chin on her hand. Tilting her head, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as an echo of her mother’s happy laughter drifted downstairs. It was her parents’ 25th wedding anniversary, and she’d insisted that she take over the bakery for the day.

“Go and be all romantically gooey together,” she’d said, standing defensively in front of them with her hands on her hips. “I can handle the shop for today.”

So now she was stood behind the counter, her face aching slightly from smiling and bored out of her mind from the monotony, but her parents deserved this time together, and she was happy to give it to them. The radio chattered quietly on in the background, and she flipped the page of the magazine she was reading. A soft hum worked its way up her throat as she absentmindedly skimmed her eyes over the articles. Some celebrity had a pregnancy scare, another was caught in a love triangle… Marinette rolled her eyes. _Can’t anyone keep it in their pants?_

The bell above the door rang, and she looked up with a practised smile on her face – a smile that became genuine when her eyes landed on the newcomer. “Adrien!”

“Hey, Marinette,” he said, his facing grinning from behind a massive bouquet of flowers.

She narrowed her eyes as she stepped out from behind the counter. “What’s with the flowers?”

“I heard it’s your parents’ anniversary, so I got them these.” He rotated in his hand as he neared her, pointing at a delicate three-petaled purple flower. “Iris for the 25th anniversary –” he moved to indicate a white flower shaped like an upside-down bell, “– honeysuckle for happiness and a sweet life –” his fingers brushed against a thin stem of lavender, “– to symbolise devotion and serenity –” he dipped his hand into the bunch and drew out a sprig of myrtle, “and myrtle represents love, and is the Hebrew symbol of marriage.”

He offered the flower to her - which she accepted, tucking it behind her ear - and shoved his free hand into his pocket. “Your parents have always been kind to me, and since they never let me pay for anything here, I knew I had to get them a gift.”

“They’ll love it, Adrien,” Marinette smiled, ignoring the flutter of her heart as his beam widened. “Come on upstairs, you can give it to them yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude if they’re busy,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

She rolled her eyes, walking past him and locking the front door. “Don’t be silly.” She flipped the sign in the door window to ‘closed’. “They love seeing you.”

Leading him upstairs, she pushed open the door to the main room too see her parents sat on the sofa, her father’s arm around her mother as they watched tv. Chocolates and freshly baked croissants sat on the kitchen worktop, filling the room with a wonderfully sweet aroma. Cards littered the windowsills and a new vase stood proudly on the coffee table. They both turned as she and Adrien entered the room and split into matching smiles.

“Hello, Adrien!” Sabine beamed at them as she rose, striding over to them. “I didn’t know you’d be coming over.”

“I got you flowers,” he explained, offering them to her. She gasped, taking in the bouquet’s beauty with wide eyes. He launched into a quick explanation of each of the flower’s meanings, and Sabine pressed her hands over her heart.

“Oh, Adrien, they’re gorgeous! Thank you so much.” She plucked the flowers from his grasp, pecked his cheek affectionately and hurried off to place them in the new vase. Tom walked over to him and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re so thoughtful, son. You do realise your ban on paying for things has extended to eternity, right?” He joked, making Adrien chuckle.

“I’ll pay for something one day, you’ll see.”

Marinette, who had been watching them fondly, rolled her eyes. “Do you want anything, Adrien?” She asked as she crossed into the kitchen and began to pull food out of the fridge. “And before you say anything, it’s no bother, I’m already at the fridge.”

A light flush dusted his cheeks, the sight of which most certainly did _not_ send the butterflies in her stomach into a flutter. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Get over here then, I’m making sandwiches and _you_ are helping.” She pointed a butter knife at him, then the fridge. “We’ve got ham, cheese, chicken – and I think some chocolate spread too. Take your pick.”

Adrien perked up immediately. “Can I have chocolate spread? Oh, and a bit of cheese? On the side, not in the sandwich.”

Marinette gestured at the fridge again and resumed buttering the bread. Five minutes, half a block of cheese and probably far too much chocolate spread later the friends were sat at the kitchen worktop, enjoying the fruits – or, rather, sandwiches – of their labour. Tom and Sabine had disappeared off somewhere, and Marinette was stubbornly refusing to think about what they might be doing. Gazing at the boy across from her, lost in the little world of him and his sandwich, she allowed herself to take him in. He had matured greatly since they had first met, his face becoming more angular and his jaw sharpening. His hair, while still a fluffy gold halo surrounding his head, was slightly longer, and had lost that styled look. Now it sat a little messier, a little more casual, a little more tousled. It almost reminded her of Chat’s hair. _It suits him_ , she thought, an unbidden smile curving the corners of her mouth. _It’s more…_ _him_.

Adrien had really opened up in the years they’d known each other. He was still polite and gentlemanly, especially in front of her parents, but he’d let go more and more of the ties that were reigning him in. First of all, he was _funny_ – though she’d never tell him that. Unfortunately, his puns were – as much as she loathed to admit it – _good_. _Much better than Chat’s dumb wordplay_ , Marinette thought with a smirk. Puns or no puns, he was still amazing to her.

Then she found out how much of a weeaboo he was.

_Chat likes anime too_ , she remembered. _They’re so similar…_ She smiled softly, fondly. _I bet they’d be such good friends!_

Adrien poked her hand, and she broke out of her reverie. “And she’s back in the room!” He teased, amusement colouring his words and he raised his hands in the air. “Truly, a miracle before thine own eyes!”

“Oh, hush, you,” she said, tapping his nose. Sliding off her stool, she grabbed their plates and put them in the dishwasher. “Have you got time to hang out?” She hip bumped the dishwasher closed. “I got the new Ultra Mecha Strike IV.”

“The rest of my day is clear, actually.” He stood, stretching his arms out over his head and causing his shirt to ride up. She determinedly _refused_ to look at the tiny slit of skin the movement revealed. “So yeah, I might have time."

 

* * *

 

“ _How_?” Adrien moaned, burying his head in his hands. “ _How_ are you so good at this game?”

“Pure skill and natural talent, sucker,” Marinette said with a satisfied sigh, leaning back against her chair. “And, you know, hours and hours of practice and honing.”

“I yield. You are the UMS queen.”

She frowned. “UMS sounds like a kind of postal service. Or an airline. Or an STD.”

“Yeah, maybe not then.” A pause. “How about the master of hand-to-hand combat?”

Marinette opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. “You know, I was going to correct you to ‘mistress’, but that just sounds…”

“…Yeah.”

She rose with a sigh, stretching out the kinks in her back. “I’m getting snacks, you want any?”

“If you keep feeding me, I’m going to lose my perfect model figure.” He struck a pose, looking entirely too ridiculous for her not to laugh.

“Perfect? Really?” She teased as she arched a brow. Adrien gasped, and reached behind him, pulling out the floral pillow he hand been leaning against and throwing it at her face. She ducked, laughing, and descended through the trapdoor into the still parentless front room. Pulling out crisps and macarons and two bottles of pop, she carefully balanced them in her arms and made her way back upstairs.

Adrien glanced over as she entered the room. “Nice rose,” he commented, turning back to her wall. “Did you press it yourself?” Marinette placed the snacks on the desk and crossed the room to join him.

Hanging on the wall in front of them was a pressed red rose, encased in a simple white frame. Fondness swelled in her chest. It was the flower Chat had given her as Ladybug on the balcony. It felt… nice, having a something that reminded her of him. Her partner could be incredibly sweet sometimes. And other times he would say things like ‘a- _meow_ -zing’.

“Yeah, I did,” she said, staring up at the memento.

“It looks great.” He bumped her shoulder, grinning at her. “Is it one you grew yourself?”

Marinette smiled, her eyes softening. “No, actually, it was a gift. A friend gave it to me a couple of years ago.”

Adrien eyed her. “A good friend?”

“One of the best.”

 

* * *

 

It was late in the day when Adrien stretched and told her (with a twinge of reluctance, she noted) that he had to go. Marinette jumped up immediately.

“If you think you’re leaving empty handed, you can think again,” she declared, dashing downstairs. By the time he followed her down, she’d boxed up several croissants and chouquettes, and was attempting to fit in an éclair. She glanced up as he entered.

“I’ll be with you in a minute – I can and _will_ make this work. Sit.” She pointed at the stool in front of her and went back to moving the contents of the box around as he obeyed. “So,” she started, eyes flicking to his face, before flitting back to the box, “have you told your dad about the modelling thing?”

Adrien shifted in his seat. “Yeah.”

“How’d it go?”

“About as well as I thought it was going to.”

“Ah.” She looked up, her hands stilling. Tension sat in the line of his shoulders and his hands were curled together in his lap. “Did you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, and she moved around the worktop until she stood beside him. Reaching down, she gently took his hands in hers and rubbed soothing circles over his knuckles. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready. You can wait until tomorrow, or next week, or never say anything at all. It’s up to you.” He stared at her. “But no matter what you choose to say or not say, I’ll always listen.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, voice scratchy. Marinette nodded, pressing a kiss to his forehead before walking back to the box and finally fitting everything in, successfully closing the lid with a grin.

“There we are! Told you I could do it,” she said proudly, hands on her hips and a beam on her face. “Here you go.”

She stepped forward, box in hand, when she was suddenly enveloped in a hug. Adrien wrapped his arms tightly around her and buried his face in her shoulder. Momentarily shocked into stillness, she slowly pressed her free arm against his back, holding him close, rubbing his back reassuringly. They stood like that for a long minute, silent, until he pulled away.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Marinette simply patted his arm and pressed the box into his hands. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They made their way down to the bakery, Adrien bidding Tom and Sabine goodbye as they passed them in the living room. She unlocked the front door, flipping over the sign on the door to ‘open’. “Hey – what’s your favourite colour?”

“I guess blue, or green. Or maybe red,” he added as a certain spotted heroine popped into his thoughts. Marinette hummed contemplatively, a calculating look in her eyes, before focusing on him. “Why?”

“Your birthday’s coming up, silly,” she said. “Go on, off with you. Can’t have you breaking your curfew, now, can we, _golden boy_?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, but grinned, a smile tugging at his lips. “See you, Marinette.”

“Bye!”

She watched him go, a fondness softening her gaze as her eyes followed his path. _Gabriel Agreste, you may be one of my fashion idols, but you are also a massive prick._


	4. Chapter 4

Thunder rolled, lightning flashing and illuminating the stormy sky as rain hammered down on the roof. The night wind whistled at the window, splattering the glass with rainwater which raced down to the sill. Marinette sighed as she dropped her pencil in her lap and leant back in her desk chair – which had rolled out from under her bed some time ago and she was unmotivated to move back – with a stretch. If she craned her neck just so, she could glimpse the silver sliver of the sickle moon through the window. She closed her eyes as she listened to the storm. The sky growled and lightning blazed and she loved it. Ever since she was a child, she had glued herself to the window every time the dark clouds crowded the sky and the tell-tale rumble echoed. On the other hand, being stuck outside during a storm was _not_ so fun. Light rain was fairly enjoyable – but a rainfall like the downpour currently pounding on her roof? _Absolutely_ not. So she was definitely relieved that she didn’t have patrol that evening.

Unfortunately, that meant a certain cat did.

“I hope he’s alright in this rain,” she murmured to Tikki. “I know cats don’t like water, and you said we’d start getting some… animal tendencies from our Miraculous’.”

“Chat Noir is strong, I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Tikki squeaked reassuringly, biting into a freshly baked cookie.

Marinette nodded. “I still worry. He doesn’t talk about it, but I know he has a difficult homelife, and with these new developments thrown in it can’t be easy.” She bent forward, propping her chin on her hand and her elbow on her chair’s arm, distractedly grabbing her pencil and beginning to doodle. “Sometimes, when he thinks I’m not paying attention, he looks so sad, and I wish I could ask him about it, help him in some way, but I can’t take that risk of revealing our identities.”

Looking down, she saw a tiny black kitten staring back at her from the page. She shook her head, forcing her concentration back to the task at hand – Adrien’s birthday present. It was going to be a scarf, that much she knew, and _this_ time he was going to know it was from her. Red and green were a classic combination, but also a classic Christmas theme. Red and blue weren’t working. _Guess it’s blue and green_ , she decided, chewing on the end of her pencil. _Now for the hard bit – actual design_.

“I could do a plaid pattern – it would do well with autumn and winter coming up. Or ombre some fabric, blue to green to blue again. Or maybe I could knit – I haven’t knit in a while, so that could be fun. Or just a block colour with embroidery in different shades. I could add tassels!” She turned to Tikki, just in time to see her drop her cookie and speed away under the chaise. “Tikki, what do you –”

A knock on the skylight interrupted her, and she jumped, sketchbook falling from her lap onto the floor. The sky had lightened a little, and through the glass she could see the vague silhouette with familiar cat ears. Scrambling up from her seat, she climbed into bed, reaching up to unlock the window.

“Hello, little lady, are you _purr_ -chance feeling hospitable tonight?” Chat said, winking at her. Despite his bravado, Marinette heard the slight tremor in his voice and narrowed her eyes. His claws dug into his palm and his pupils were blown wide.

“Come on in, tomcat,” she said, stepping back.

He hesitated. “Are you sure you want a rain-soaked cat on your dry sheets?” She eyed her bed, considering, before racing down her bed’s steps, jumping off and missing the last four.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back.”

She quickly prised open the trapdoor and carefully descended, ears pricked for any sound of movement from her parents’ room. Creeping out the kitchen and into the bathroom, she grabbed some bath towels and, after a moment of deliberation, a bright blue sports towel. She snuck out of the room, only to – quite literally – run into her mother.

“Oh!” She squeaked, jumping backwards and clutching the towels tightly to her chest. “Maman! What are you doing up?”

Sabine’s gaze drifted to the bundle in Marinette’s arms. “Well, I was just going to use the bathroom.” She raised her eyebrows as she looked back up to meet her daughter’s eyes. “Is there leak somewhere?”

“A leak? _Yes!_ A leak! From the, uh… roof! Left the skylight open before I fell asleep, what am I like?” She laughed awkwardly.

Sabine eyes glimmered with amusement as a smile curved her lips. “Go on – that stray kitty of yours can’t be enjoying the rain much.”

Marinette gaped at her mother. “How did you know?”

“How did I know? Marinette, even with that catlike grace he’s not exactly silent when he lands on the roof. Plus, he makes you laugh a lot.” Her face softened. “It’s nice to hear you so relaxed, you know. With the school, and the akumas –”

“ _Akumas?_ What do the akumas have to do with anything?” _Does she know?_ How _could she know?_

Sabine eyed her. “Well, with the fighting and destruction. I always worry you might’ve gotten caught up in it and been hurt.”

“I promise, I’ll be careful maman.”

“I know.” She nodded at the towels. “Go on, go see your friend. Tell him not to stay out patrolling too late.”

Marinette beamed at her mother, balancing the bundle in one arm and wrapping the other around her mother, squeezing tightly. “Goodnight, maman. Oh – are you going to tell papa about Chat?”

“Why would I? I don’t need to.” Sabine grinned slightly at the frozen look on her daughter’s face. “Don’t worry, he likes him too. Thinks his puns are hilarious.” She rolled her eyes. “Go.”

Marinette relaxed, before darting upstairs. Arriving back in her room, she climbed at up to her bed and laid the bath towels out to cover her quilt, layering them and smoothing out the creases. Placing the sports towel to one side, she glanced up at Chat, who was still perched at the edge of the skylight, claws gripping tight and ears twitching erratically. His pupils were blown wide and his entire body was shivering ever so slightly. He’s going to get a cold.

“Come on in, kitty,” she murmured, patting the towel-laden space in front of her. He carefully slid in, crouching gently on the towels and clicking the trapdoor shut behind him. She handed him the blue towel with a smile. “Not too keen on the rain?”

“You could say that,” he muttered, wiping himself down and rubbing it over his hair. His tail twitched behind him at every rumble from the clouds, and Marinette could almost see it bristling.

“I’ve always loved the rain.” She drew her knees up to her chest, looping her arms around her legs and lacing her fingers together. “When I was little, whenever it rained, I’d run outside in my pink wellies.”

“What did you do?”

She shrugged, looking up to watch the rain dot the skylight’s glass. “Play, mostly. Jump in puddles, sometimes dance. Laugh.” Amusement glittered in her eyes. “Maman hated it. I’d always end up tracking in mud and grass and all sorts.”

“Sounds fun.”

Marinette turned to face him properly. His face was wistful, with cat ears turned down and eyes sad. Too sad. _Why is he sad?_ She shifted over, until their shoulders brushed, and started to hum quietly. It took a minute, but Chat slowly relaxed, and she grinned at him. “No pun about _dropping_ in, kitty? I’m almost disappointed.”

He scoffed, but a grin of his own twitched up the corners of his mouth. “Come now, Marinette, that’s just low hanging fruit.” 

She giggled, bumping into his shoulder playfully. “Alright, tomcat, I’ve got to get back to work. Feel free to stick around – or _claw_ -dle, if you like. I can’t pro- _cat_ -stinate any longer.”

The wordplay dragged his features into a smile, and she grinned. _Much better_. She slipped off the edge of the bed, and descended the steps, swiping her sketchbook from the floor and reclaiming her desk chair. Sitting with a sigh, she flipped through the pages until she landed on the scarf. Humming softly to herself, she spun the chair slowly in a circle, one leg pulled up beside her and propped up against one of the chair’s arms; the other brushed against the rug beneath her as she turned. _I’d like to knit the scarf, but I’m not entirely sure how much stabilizer I have left. A tartan scarf is tempting, but would it look good with tassels? I want tassels._

She began to sketch, an absentminded hum working its way up her throat. Chat peered over the railing, watching her silently. Her black hair, gleaming with touches of blue as it caught the light, was loosely tied in in her usual low bunches, some strands escaping the ruby red ribbons. Her forehead was creased in concentration as she mumbled quietly, lost in her own little world of just her and her sketches. He edged down the steps to the floor and tilted his head to get a better look of her drawing.

“What’re you sketching?” He asked as he neared her. She jumped, his words startling her out of her reverie.

“ _Chat!_ For the love of… don’t creep up on me like – like – a _creeper_!”

He chuckled. “Sorry, _purr_ -incess, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t know you were such a scaredy-cat.” He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes, reaching out to tap his nose.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Only because it’s true.”

“ _Meow-ch!_ You sure know how to flatter a guy.” He pouted, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She turned the book in her hands so he could see it.

“To answer your earlier question, _alley cat_ , I’m designing a gift for one of my friends. It’s his birthday soon.” He looked over the sketch, eying it appraisingly. She knew he had some experience with fashion, a fact she’d learnt during a particularly dull patrol. While initially surprised (and vaguely dubious) of his apparent “expertise”, she quickly came to appreciate and value his input on her designs. “What do you think?”

“Well, I certainly love it,” he said as he handed the book back. “Who’s it for?”

“Adrien Agreste – you know him, right?”

Chat rubbed the back of his neck as his tail twitched. “I definitely do.”

“We’re friends, and his birthday’s coming up, so I’m making him a scarf again.”

_Again?_ He frowned, tilting his head. _Has she made me a scarf before?_ “Again?”

Marinette nodded, eyes glued to the sketchbook in her hands. “Yeah. I know, I know, reusing old ideas, but technically he doesn’t know I made him the first one, so I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count.”

Now he was more confused than ever. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the first birthday gift I ever made him was a scarf. A blue one, I worked so hard on it – though, thinking about it, it probably wasn’t that good. It was years ago – only a little while after we’d met, actually.” Chat’s eyes widened, and a nagging thought lingered in his head. “I left it at his house, and the next day he came into school wearing it. I was so glad that he liked it.” She smiled softly, sadly, her eyes lost in a memory. “I guess the note fell off, or there was some kind of mix-up, but he thought it was from his dad. I probably should’ve corrected him, but he looked really happy… I didn’t want to take that away from him. I made it to make him happy, so mission accomplished. This time, though, he’ll know it’s from me.”

She looked up and found Chat staring at her with wide eyes. Before she knew it, he was hugging her tightly, trapping her arms beneath his. He drew back as quickly as he’d leaned in. “I’m sure Adrien will love whatever you decide on, Marinette,” he murmured before leaping onto her bed. “I have to go. _Cat_ -ch you later!”

He waved, shooting her a quick wink before unlatching the skylight and bounding into the night. She raised her hand in farewell, but he was gone before she could bid him goodnight. _What’s with him?_ She wondered as Tikki flew out from under the chaise. She met the little kwami’s gaze, both wearing matching expressions of confusion.

“I’m sure Chat’s okay, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, returning to the cookies. “He probably just needed to get home. It _is_ rather late, after all.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, only half listening. “Probably.”

 

* * *

 

He was not okay.

He was not even in the same country as okay. Scratch that, he was in a different continent. Okay? Okay wasn’t here. Okay was literally anywhere but here, that’s where okay was.

As soon as he’d jumped in through his bedroom window, he’d detransformed, rushing to his drawers and pulling out the old, faded scarf. Turning it over in his hands, he scanned it, eyes immediately catching on a thread that was a shade lighter than the rest of the piece. Tracing its path with a finger, he saw exactly what he was looking for. _How could I have missed this?_ Under the tips of his fingers was one name. _Marinette_.

Adrien groaned, and flopped onto his bed, burying his face in the quilt as the scarf hung loosely from his hand. Plagg flew over, munching on a wedge of camembert through a knowing smirk. “Finally see the obvious, kid?”

“ _You knew?_ ” Adrien’s head shot, and he stared at the floating kwami. Plagg shrugged.

“She literally signed her name on it. The question is, how did you not know?” The blond groaned again, rolling onto his back and dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not one to bad mouth your old man, but did it not seem _way_ out of character to actively show an interest in you – let alone spend time on making you a gift?”

Adrien opened his mouth, ready to argue, but… Plagg had a point. He couldn’t remember the last time his dad had spoken to him directly about anything other than his schedule or modelling – and even _that_ had been weeks ago. Excepting the… _conversation_ he’d had with him last week. _Conversation_ , he scoffed. _For that he’d actually have to listen to my thoughts on the matter._

“So, what are you going to do about your little lady friend, kid?” Plagg said, dropping miniscule morsels of cheese on the otherwise immaculate bedding. “Flowers, a present, what?”

Adrien drew out his phone. “I know a girl.” 

 

* * *

 

Alya rolled over in her bed, a crease appearing between her brows as she tried to block out the persistent buzzing that was interrupting her lovely dream. She’d been hanging out with Paris’ resident superheroes, and she had her own miraculous back, the chain slung around her neck and the foxtail pendent settled at the base of her throat like it belonged there. Unfortunately, she could only ignore the relentless noise for so long, until she eventually wrenched her eyes open and glared at her phone. Narrowing her eyes at the name flashing on the screen, she reached over and answered the call.

“Agreste, I swear to god…”

“What does Marinette like?” Now _that_ got her attention.

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

“What does she like to do, what does she like to eat – what would her dream day out be like?” Adrien’s voice had a tinge or urgency, and Alya arched an eyebrow.

“I would love to tell you, sunshine, but you have to tell me why.”

“I want to thank her. She… she made my scarf, didn’t she? The one I thought was from my father?”

Alya paused. “Yeah, she did. Did you just realise?”

Adrien sighed, and she could practically see him rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “Yeah. God, I’ve been an idiot.”

“Uh, yeah, you have,” Alya snorted, rolling onto her back beneath her purple sheets. “It’s been like, 5 years. How did you not figure it out? She _signed_ it.”

He muttered something under his breath, too low for her to pick up. “Just – just help me plan the perfect day out for her, _please_?”

She grinned, sitting up against the headboard and flicking on her bedside lamp. “Well, I know she loves picnics…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i know im posting this later than the previous chapters i fell asleep okay 
> 
> btw ill be updating every tuesday between 8 and 10 pm - at least where i live, which is wales, so do with that info what you will
> 
> also college started up so uhhhh the next chapters are just gonna be an unedited stream of consciousness good luck reading it guys


	5. Chapter 5

Dust glinted with gold, swirling in the sunbeams filtering in through the skylight above. The faint sound of cars passing by permeated the air, intermingling with the quiet bustle of the bakery downstairs. Warmth seeped into Marinette’s skin as she lay curled in her cosy cocoon. Getting to enjoy a lay in was a rarity for her, so she intended to enjoy it as much as possible. With sheets this warm and comfortable it would be an _offense_ to leave so soon. So she buried down further into her pillows, breathing in their sweet scent and revelling in the soft blanket enveloping her bare feet. _Where did my socks go? I swear I went to bed with some on…_

Unfortunately, her peaceful sanctuary couldn’t last. A loud knock sounded at the trapdoor to her room, and she groaned, before peeling off the quilt. “Come in!” She called, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The trapdoor squeaked open, and a familiar face grinned up at her.

“Rise and shine, girl! Big day today!” Alya announced, marching over to the windows and raising the blinds. Marinette let out a thoroughly unimpressed sound. She flopped back onto her bed, drawing her sheets back up to her chin.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Well of course you don’t, it’s a surprise.” _That_ got her attention.

“Surprise? What surprise? When? Where? Why?”

“Aren’t you more interested in the _who_?” Alya teased, hands resting on her hips as Marinette clambered quickly down the steps.

“Oh my god, _who_?”

“Not telling.”

“ _Alya_."

“Nuh-uh, it’s a surprise. You can always guess, but I probably won’t answer.” Alya wagged her finger at the smaller girl, a smirk playing about her lips. She strode over to Marinette’s clothes, rifling through the rack and humming softly to herself. “Now get over here girl, you have to get ready.”

Marinette sighed, but obeyed, crossing the room to stand by her friend. “Can I at least have a frame of reference for what this… _surprise_ will entail?”

“It’s just a picnic,” Alya revealed, holding a shirt up against the other girl before returning it with a shake of her head. 

“A picnic? That doesn’t sound adventurous or life-endangering – so it can’t be your surprise.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait, it’s not a picnic on the edge of the Eiffel Tower, or something?”

Alya hummed, frowning as she thought. “It’s not on the edge.” Eyes landing on a pinafore dress, she plucked it from the rail and handed it over. “But you’re right, it’s not my surprise.” Passing her a turtleneck in subdued pastels, she turned to slump onto the chaise.

Marinette changed quickly. _Whose surprise is it then? Nino? Nathaniel? Chloe is certainly extra enough to, but picnics aren’t her style._ She slipped on some white trainers, considering. Securing her hair into her trademark style, she switched out her normal red ties for white ones, crossing her room to her vanity and agreeing with only a little apprehension when Alya insisted on doing her makeup.

A touch of mascara and surprisingly light lipstick later, Marinette stood in front of her best friend, awaiting judgement. She looked her up and down, a grin splitting her features.

“You look gorgeous, girl.” Alya then ushered her downstairs and out the house, only allowing her a swift pause to grab her purse and call out a hurried goodbye to her parents. Linking their arms, the girls made their way down the street, Alya deflecting all Marinette’s questions with non-committal hums and vague answers.

“Is it Nathaniel?”

“Hmm.”

“ _Okay,_ then, am I going to like this surprise?”

“Probably.”

“Can’t you at _least_ tell me where we’re going?”

“As it happens,” Alya said, drawing the walk to a stop, “we’re here.”

Glancing around, Marinette realised her surroundings. People bustled around her, enjoying the contrast of the bright sun and cool air; the sky was clear and brilliantly blue, perfectly framing the Eiffel Tower. The scent of rain still clung to the damp grass beneath her feet. Alya nudged her, facing the opposite direction.

“Hey, golden boy.”

Marinette spun around. On the ground in front of them sat Adrien, splayed out on a picnic blanket. She only had a second to take in how his hair – while a little darker than when they were younger – glinted in the sunlight before he sat straight up.

“Hey Alya. Hi,” he added, beaming at Marinette.

“Well that’s my job done. Have fun you two!” Alya declared, winking at her friend, who flushed bright pink, and waved as she left. The two remaining teens faced each other. Adrien patted the space next to him on the blanket, and Marinette dropped into it with a soft sigh, leaning back on her hands and stretching her legs out before her.

“So, uh, what’s this in aid of?” She asked, shifting to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Can’t I do something nice for one of my best friends?” Adrien said, tilting his head. He reached into the picnic basket and passed her a sandwich.  

“Believe me, if there’s anyone I know that does nice things just because they’re a nice person it’s our resident golden boy,” she pushed his calf gently with her toe as she took the sandwich, “but Alya knew about it, which suggests scheming is afoot and _this is roujiamo_.”

“Alya gave me a list of foods you like, and that was at the top, so I asked my chef if he could make it.”

She stared at him. _He had this made… for me?_ Her stomach flipped. “You are an absolute angel, you know.”

Adrien beamed at her, a blushing slightly. “So are you, Marinette.”

Red spread across her cheeks and neck, and she was suddenly incredibly interested in eating her sandwich. He chuckled, bringing out his own sandwich and biting down contentedly. The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, eating and watching the crowds around them. Couples passed, hand in hand, cheeks rosy and smiles tentative; families bustled about, babies squealing with laughter in their buggies; tourists milled about the market stalls, snapping pictures of the Eiffel Tower. Adrien’s eyes drifted to Marinette. _I’m so lucky to have a friend like her_.

“What do you think her backstory is?” She asked, leaning against him and pointing out a woman sat on a bench. Her long hair was wound into a bun atop her head, adorned with an aureate lily hairpin, and she was reading an upside-down magazine in one hand. The other was busy gently scratching a ginger cat behind the ears.

Adrien cocked his head. “She’s clearly a witch, and that cat is her familiar.”

“Nah, she’s definitely one of the Fair Folk.”

“Seelie or Unseelie?”

“Oh, Unseelie, definitely. Look at those eyes.”  

“What about them?” Adrien nodded his head at a passing jogger. Their shaved head was tattooed, black lines winding across their scalp. Despite their slow pace, power emanated from them, rippling in their defined muscles.

“Obviously they’re on the run, a pirate wrongly accused of murder, so they escaped in a time machine to the present and are currently hiding from the Agents of Time.” Marinette glanced around, her eyes landing on a couple standing in the shade of the treeline. Their arms were wrapped up in each other, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. The girl had her hands cupping her partner’s head, murmuring softly to them.

“Those two?”

Adrien hummed quietly, pondering. “Well, they’re lovers, that’s pretty clear.” He eyed their clothing, picking up on the girl’s gleaming jewellery and her partner’s stained hoodie. “I’ve got it – she’s a princess, betrothed to another to unite the kingdoms and form a strong alliance. Her partner’s a servant at her castle, working in the kitchens – a job they only took to be closer to her.”

“Oh, _oh_! They’re childhood friends, but her father disapproved since he thought his daughter was too good for them,” Marinette chimed in, her hand landing on Adrien’s arm, “so they made a necklace for her, so she’d always have a piece of them.”

“The wedding is tomorrow, so they snuck out of the castle and this is the last time they’ll ever be together.”

“She wants to run away with them, but they won’t let her – they know they can never freely be together, and that the king is only looking out for her and the kingdom.”

The two teenagers watched as the couple shared a kiss, and walked away, hand in hand. Glancing back at each other, Marinette noticed that they were pressed up against each other, thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, and scrambled back, face flushing. Adrien simply looked at her, a softly fond smile curving his lips.

 

* * *

 

“You never answered my question,” Marinette said suddenly as she helped him repack the picnic basket (how he’d managed to fit so much food in there, she’d never know). The sun had started to set, its dying light creeping across the sky and catching the Eiffel Tower with a golden glow. The tourists had moved on, the families had left, and the remaining people had migrated closer to the tower, eager to see the lights.

“What? Oh, the picnic, right.” Adrien paused, sitting back from the basket. “It’s a thank you.”

Surprise flitted across her face as she stared at him, looking up from packing. “A _thank you_? For what?”

“For my scarf.”

She stilled. _He knows? How does he know?_

“Scarf? What scarf?” She snorted, turning back to the basket, hoping he wouldn’t notice how her traitorous skin was slowly turning red. “I don’t know any scarf.”

“The scarf you made me – it was blue, remember?” He said, leaning to the side to try and gauge her reaction.

Marinette sighed. Twisting to face him, she fell back onto her heels, kneeling on the blanket. “Yeah, I remember.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “How’d you find out?”

“You sign your creations – it just took me 5 years to notice,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She met his eyes unwaveringly. “You were happy.”

Adrien’s heart skipped in his chest. He shifted forward, enveloping her in a hug. A surprised second later she returned it, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing slow circles on his back. A moment later he pulled back, a beam on his face. Silently, they both turned back and finished packing the basket, miraculously fitting everything plus the blanket in. Grabbing the handle as he rose, Adrien offered a hand to help Marinette up, which she accepted with a grin and a roll of her eyes. They slowly made their way back to the bakery and were only halfway through their walk when Marinette realised their hands were still clasped together. _Well if he’s not going to mention it I’m definitely not going to_ , she thought.

“Thank you for the picnic,” she said as they neared her home.

“Thank you for the scarf,” Adrien countered. They came to a stop outside the bakery, Marinette’s hand falling from his. Reaching into the basket, he drew out a yellow calla lily and offered it to her. She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“You and your flowers. What does this one mean?”

“It’s associated with gratitude,” he explained as she took it from him.

“Should I get you one too, to thank you for the thank you?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “ _Marinette_.”

“Okay, okay.” She met his gaze with soft eyes. “Seriously though, you didn’t have to do this. _Any_ of this. Thank you.”

A faint blush dusted his cheeks, and Marinette beamed at him. _Well isn’t that just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen_. Suddenly a shadow fell over the two teens. Looking up, Adrien grinned at the looming figure. “Hey, Gorilla.”

The bodyguard’s mouth twitched slightly in a smile, his gaze amused as his eyes flicked between them. He nodded his head back at the car, then turned and clambered into the front seat. Adrien sighed. “I guess that’s my cue.”

“Wait!” Marinette dashed inside, grabbed a bag of cookies, and darted back out to drop them into the basket. “There. You can go now.”

Adrien chuckled. “See you later?”

“Absolutely.”

She watched as Adrien climbed into the car, sliding the basket onto the seat next to him before closing the door. Waving as the car drove off, Marinette turned and headed back into the bakery. She glanced down at her hand. Gently stroking the petals of the lily, she reached up, tucking it behind her ear. A soft smile spread across her face.

“Hey sweetheart,” Tom said as he bustled into the room, arms laden with a tray of loaves. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Just hanging out with Adrien.”

“Ooh, _Adrien_ , huh?” Sabine teased as she entered the bakery, carrying an assortment of beautifully packaged sweets.

“ _Maman_.”

“I’m just teasing honey. Where did you go?” She asked as she helped her husband organise the display. Marinette walked over to help, carefully rearranging delicious breads and buns and other baked delights.

“Champ de Mars. He’d organised a picnic, with my favourite foods. It was so sweet.” She sighed happily, and Tom eyed her curiously.

“Do you think he knows he likes you?” He said innocently.

Marinette coughed, her face flushing as she raised her chin slightly. “I don’t know what you mean, papa.”

“Alya told us all about it. He asked your best friend what your favourite things are, organised a surprise picnic with the best view of your favourite place in Paris, _and_ had his personal chef make your favourite foods for you. Marinette, honey, I know you can be oblivious but surely you can see what’s staring you in the face.” Sabine faced her, hands on her hips and a brow arched.

“It doesn’t matter, maman. I’m getting over him – and besides, he likes Ladybug.”

Her parents exchanged an almost exasperated look. Tom folded his arms, straightening up. “I still don’t see how that would be an issue.” At Marinette’s scrutinising glance, blue eyes narrowed, he backpedalled. “I mean, she’s a superhero! No one even knows how old she is – she could be 30 for all we know!”

Seemingly satisfied with this answer, Marinette sighed. “That’s just it. He likes a _superhero_ , and he doesn’t know her name or her age, or what she’s like as a person. That pedestal is hard to get rid of, and a relationship with that kind of adoration wouldn’t be good.”

Sabine grinned at her. “Like the kind of pedestal you had Adrien on?”

“ _Maman_! You know it’s different now. I know he’s not perfect, and I like him more for it.” She pondered for a second, tapping her lips with the tip of her finger. “Like, he has a ridiculous sense of humour – his puns are _awful_. And he’s a total weeb.”

A beat passed. “So,” Tom offered, “you’d say these things just make you care about him more?”

“Well, yeah?” _Where are you going with this, papa?_

“Huh. Well, if I didn’t know you were talking about Adrien, I’d think you were talking about Chat Noir.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you’re right. Chat also has terrible puns and is a complete weeb.” She paused, before grinning. “I should introduce them, they’d be such good friends!”

Tom groaned, and Sabine had to hold herself back from facepalming. The teenager made her way upstairs to her room, clambering through the trapdoor and locking it behind her. Falling down onto it, the smile fell from her face. _Loves anime, makes ridiculous puns, has blond hair and green eyes, has kitten eyes that makes me melt…_ Marinette listed in her head, counting the points off on her fingers. Tikki flew out of her bag, pausing only to look at her wielder, before zipping off to her desk and switching on the computer, eager to catch up on her YouTube subscriptions.

_Why can’t I work out if I’m thinking about Chat or Adrien?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is late and i know i missed last week, sorry about that, but college has been ughhhhhh you know? BUT i have also been working on other fics!! so theres that
> 
> and im gonna change the updates to saturday - around the same time, just... on saturday
> 
> also that frozer trailer fucked me UP


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey loser!”

“Oi, we’re talking to you!”

“Get back here!”

Orson Perret hastened his pace. His breaths came in short, heavy pants as he hurried away from the voices, ducking his head and gripping tightly onto the straps of his rucksack of books. His 11-year-old legs were slowing, though, his limbs quickly tiring. The bullies were much older and faster and bigger, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to outrun them for long. Risking a glance back, his bespectacled eyes widened as he saw that they were much closer than he would’ve liked. Focusing back on the path before him, he sped up until he was practically running, when a hand catching on his bag and tugging him back made him stumble and topple over, his rucksack slipping from his grasp. Above him stood the bullies, his bag hanging from the tight grip of the tallest of the three.

“Looks like you dropped something, Perret,” the sharp-faced girl said, a sneer curling her mouth as she leaned over him. “You shouldn’t be so clumsy.”

“Now, now, Lizzie,” the eldest of the bullies murmured, disdain evident in his eyes as he stared down at Orson. “Let’s not be so mean.”

Lizzie glared at her accomplice. “Don’t tell me what not to do, Dupuis.”

The one holding Orson’s bag sighed. “Will you two stop fighting? Honestly, it’s like I’m working with babies.” He shook his head, staring down at the bedraggled boy on the floor. “And we already have one of those, there’s no need for anymore.”

Orson’s eyes filled with tears as the bullies’ mocking laughter filled the air. With a dramatic sigh, the tall bay upended his bag, spilling the contents over the pavement, eventually letting the bag slip from his grasp.

“Oops!” He exclaimed, hiding his smile behind his hand. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

Spinning on his heel, he marched off, his two cronies scurrying to his side as they cackled. Orson sat up, hands shaking as he slowly piled the books neatly before carefully lowering them into his bag. Silent tears slid down his face, dripping off the end of his nose and chin as he hung his head. Overhead a purple butterfly fluttered, before diving down and connecting with the backpack. Suddenly his mind was empty, numbness flowing through him, all feeling fleeing. Sitting up properly, purple lit up his face. Time stilled and the air around him became as thick as jelly.

“Bookworm, I am Hawk Moth. You have been teased for the last time – with my help you’ll be able to trap your enemies in a literary hell of your own making. In return for your revenge, I want Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculouses.” 

Violet enveloped him, coursing along his limbs and bubbling across his body. His hands clenched into fists, clamped around the straps of his bag; what was normally a mess of curls sat flat and constantly changing colour atop his head; his black hoodie flowed into a cloak, rippling in a non-existent breeze. His glasses melted away and revealed murky white eyes. As he stood he blinked, and the world around him became so much more vibrant. Bookworm smiled.

As he took in the new surroundings, his eyes landed on an ugly smear besmirching his beautiful landscape. Darkness buzzed around it, bleeding into its edges, showing him all the wrong it had done. A snarl curled his lips. _No! That is not allowed!_ He reached into his bag and pulled out a blank book. Pressing his palm against the cover he closed his eyes, channelling his disgust into it, before tossing it forward. Landing at the feet of his target, it flew open, pages in a frenzy, and sucked the smear in.

“Robin!” Its companion screamed, falling to her knees beside the book. Bookworm simply grinned maliciously and walked away, his bag dragging along the ground at his side.

 

* * *

 

“Yes Alya, I’m on my way,” Marinette said reassuringly, phone wedged between shoulder and chin. Huffing softly, she shifted her bags from one hand to the other, stretching her tired fingers and grabbing her mobile from where it rested.

“You remembered everything, right? Snacks, blankets…”

“Don’t worry, I got it all.”

Alya laughed. “Just checking, girl.”

“What about everything your end?” Marinette side-stepped to avoid crashing into a jogger. “Music, makeup –”

She was interrupted by a shrill scream piercing the air. Whipping her head around, she backed up against a wall as people ran past, their fearful cries interjected with the occasional, “Akuma!” Through the throng she could just about see the form of a short boy covered in a cloak throwing books at people.

“I have to go, there’s an akuma!” Marinette yelled to be heard over the chaos.

Alya gasped. “What? Where are you? Where’s the akuma?”

“No time, Alya!” She hung up quickly, dropping her phone into her purse as she spun on her heel and ran, gaze darting from side to side as she sought out a suitable alleyway. Turning down a side street, she crouched down in an alcove and Tikki shot out of her bag. The two shared a knowing grin, and two words and a flash of pink light later Ladybug crouched in her place. Straightening up, she threw her yo-yo upwards, catching on a chimney and pulling her into the air. She glanced around. Below her people sprinted away from a small figure with multi-coloured hair and backpack.

“There you are,” she breathed, and a second later a tell-tale _thump_ beside her heralded the arrival of her feline partner.

“M’lady,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“We need to stop running into each other like this,” she teased, eyes scanning the akuma up and down. “The akuma throws books, and whoever’s nearby gets sucked into it, though I’ve only seen one person drawn in at a time. I reckon the item is either the cloak or the rucksack.”

Chat tapped a claw to his chin, considering. “It’s his bag.”

Ladybug glanced at him. “You sure kitty?”

Nodding resolutely, he readied his baton, twirling it between his fingers. “Absolutely.”

“Okay then. Let’s make this quick.”

“Somewhere to be, bugaboo?”

“Yes.” Casting out her yo-yo, she met his gaze. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The two of them jumped into the fight, weapons in hand. Deftly avoiding each book thrown at them, they darted in opposite directions, Chat Noir determinedly drawing the akuma’s attention as Ladybug slipped in behind and tossed her yo-yo at the bag. With a snarl Bookworm spun, raising his bag up to collide with her face. It knocked the breath out of her and sent her crashing into a car. Bookworm clicked his fingers and his bag shot back into his hand as Chat Noir rushed over to his partner, concern soaking his words.

“Ladybug!” He cried, landing at her side and wrapping an arm around her waist.

She groaned. “What the _hell_ does he have in that thing, bricks?” She rubbed the back of her head, wincing slightly as Chat vaulted them away to a rooftop.

“Pretty sure it’s just books, m’lady.”

“Well they’re hardcovers, that’s for sure.” She sighed as he set her down and blinked at him. “Lucky charm?”

“Probably best.” 

A second later a heavy-duty torch fell into her hands. Nodding decisively, she stared out over the scene in the street. “Okay, I’ll blind him and you Cataclysm the bag while he can’t see.”

“A simple solution? In _my_ akuma fight?”

“It’s more likely than you think,” she winked, and the two jumped down. Jamming her finger down on the button, Ladybug aimed the light in Bookworm’s eyes, grinning in satisfaction when he screeched in outrage, clamping one hand over his eyes and wildly whipping his bag around him.

“Cataclysm!” Chat yelled, thrusting his hand out and dragging a claw along the front of the bag. It crumbled under his touch, disintegrating into dust and releasing the akuma, only to be caught in Ladybug’s yo-yo. She cleansed it, then threw the flashlight into the air.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

A swarm of ladybugs swept through the street, freeing people from the books, fixing the bag and detransforming Bookworm. A young boy sat in his place, rubbing his eyes, and squinting blearily around. The superheroes crouched down before him, kind smiles on their faces. The boy stared at them in awe, hands scrabbling to pull his glasses out of pocket. He shoved them on and beamed at them, though his eyes betrayed his obvious confusion.

“Chat Noir? Ladybug? What happened?”

The two glanced at each other, before facing him again. “You were akumatised,” Chat said softly, handing him his bag.

“Oh! I am so, so sorry.” The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and Chat reached forward to envelop him in a hug.

“Don’t worry, kid! It wasn’t your fault, okay?” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “It was Hawk Moth’s, the big jerk. If anyone blames you, you shout for me, and I’ll come running.” He paused. “What’s your name?”

“Orson – Orson Perret.”

“Do you remember what was happening when you were akumatised, Orson?” Ladybug asked gently.

The boy’s forehead creased as he thought back. “Um, I was walking home from the library, when these three bullies came up behind me and started following me, yelling stuff. Calling me names. I fell over and the biggest one tipped my bag over the pavement. They walked away laughing, and then…” His words trickled off as he struggled to continue.

Ladybug bit her lip, then took a deep breath as resolve settled in her features. “You know, I’ve been bullied before.”

He stared at her in surprise. Beside him, a similar emotion was shining in Chat’s eyes. “Really?” Orson whispered, eyes wide. She nodded.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “You’re not alone.”

“What school do you go to, buddy?” Chat asked in an all-too-innocent voice. Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously as Orson answered.

“Jeannine Manuel, why?”

“No reason,” Chat replied, shooting his partner a quick wink. "Just thinking maybe your school needs a visit from a certain pair of superheroes to talk about bullying." Ladybug rose, stretching her arms out above her. Her eyes fell on a certain journalist with a familiar head of brightly coloured hair.

“Do you think you can get Orson here back to where he’s supposed to be?” She asked, nodding in Alya’s direction. “I’ll take reporter duty.”

“You got it, m’lady.” Chat stood, only to dip into a grand, sweeping bow and press a kiss to the back of her hand. Ladybug tapped his nose in response and watched fondly as he helped Orson onto his back and vaulted off. _He’s so sweet._

The thought was unbidden and sudden, and her eyes widened in shock. _What? When did he become sweet?_ She thought back, memories of past akuma attacks and patrols flitting by in her mind. _Or at least, when did I start thinking of him as sweet? He’s goofy and ridiculous and flirty and kind and, yes, sweet. How come I never noticed before?_

“Ladybug!” Alya’s voice drew her out of her reverie, and she turned to face the Ladyblogger, grinning at her.

“Alya! You weren’t chasing the akuma again, were you?” She asked sternly, hands on her hips. Alya had the grace to look sheepish, but shook her head resolutely.

“No. Not for lack of trying, though. Marinette was here – you know Marinette?” Ladybug nodded. _You could say that_. “And she wouldn’t tell me where it was – but luckily the Akuma Alert app notified me – which has been so helpful for the Ladyblog. Anyway, I’m supposed to be asking you questions. Do you have time?”

“I have a minute – but that’s all. Fire away.”

“First – do you have any leads for the identity of Hawk Moth?”

Ladybug sighed. “Unfortunately, no. But we won’t give up.” She stared into the camera on Alya’s phone, eyes hard and unyielding. “We will find you, Hawk Moth.” 

“Next question – are there any plans for more heroes, or the reappearance of some old ones – for example… Rena Rouge?” Alya eyed her hopefully, eyes shining from behind her phone.

“Not at this point in time – but if help is needed, Rena will be the first person we call. Just don’t tell Queenie I said that.” She winked, and Alya laughed. “Now, I have to go. Bug out!”

Tossing her yo-yo into the air, she waved a quick goodbye and swung away over the rooftops, inhaling deeply as she flew by, revelling the freedom and wind in her hair. Dropping into an alley, she detransformed, and Tikki zoomed into her purse, where a stash of cookies awaited her. Holding tightly onto the bags that magically reappeared in her hands, Marinette hummed softly to herself as she emerged onto the street and made her way towards Alya’s house.

 

* * *

 

Marinette stared down at the screen Alya had rested on a striped pillow, allowing a small smile to curve her lips. Excitement emanated from the reporter, so potent it could be seen. Chloe arched a brow at the phone, but she wasn’t fooling anyone – her crush on the spotted heroine was well-known.

“How’s your celebrity crush doing?” Mauve whispered teasingly in the blonde’s ear, giggling when Chloe huffed and rolled her eyes.

“She’s… normal.”

“So totally fit?”

“The fittest,” Alya chimed in, passing the couple drinks. “Chat Noir is one lucky guy.”

“Okay one: there is _literally_ nothing going on between Ladybug and Chat Noir, and two: Nino?” Marinette interjected, counting off the points on her fingers.

“One: there is _literally_ no proof that they’re _not_ a couple, and two: Nino agrees with me. Ladybug is one attractive superhero,” Alya shot back, mimicking her friend’s finger-counting. Marinette stuck her tongue out in retaliation, to which Alya had the very mature response of throwing popcorn all over her.

“Besides, it’s definitely not Ladybug who has the good taste between her and cat boy – I mean, Rena before Queen Bee? _Really_?” Chloe folded her arms, scoffing. Marinette hid a smile, and Mauve eyed her girlfriend knowingly, perching her chin on the blonde’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Well, I know Queenie would be _my_ first choice,” she said, and Chloe perked up considerably.

“She would? I mean, of course she would. She’s obviously the best.”

“I think if anyone is the best it’s Carapace,” Alya interrupted, “but that’s not the point of tonight’s sleepover. It’s Adrien’s birthday coming up, and we need to get him the best presents ever.”

“I’m making him a scarf,” Marinette said.

“What colour?”

“I was thinking blue and green. What do you think, Chloe?”

Chloe sniffed. “That sounds… acceptable, Dupain-Cheng.”

“You know it would probably be easier to shorten my last name to DC if you’re going to insist on saying it in full each time,” Marinette suggested.

“Don’t be ridiculous – I’m a bitch, not a heathen.”

Alya snorted. “Well what do you plan on getting him, Chloe?” Marinette asked, shifting to pull her knees up to her chest and rest her chin atop them.

“Backstage VIP Jagged Stone tickets,” the blonde reeled off, “for him and whoever he chooses to invite.”

“Well, I know he – like literally everyone – has a crush on Ladybug –” Marinette choked on her drink, and Mauve patted her back good-naturedly – “so I’m going to ask her if she’d meet up with him – maybe she can come to his party!”

The others nodded, at various levels of eagerness. “Uh huh,” Marinette agreed faintly. “That would indeed be a good thing to happen.” _He has a crush on Ladybug, which by extension means he has a crush on me, and now I need to come to his birthday twice?_ She groaned inwardly _. If Ladybug is what Adrien wants, Ladybug is what he’ll get_. Sighing softly, she smiled weakly at Alya as she sipped on her lemonade. _I’ll make this work. Bring it on_.


	7. Chapter 7

Hunched over her desk, pencil moving quickly in her hand, Marinette hummed. It was approaching night, the evening sun’s rays painting the walls of her bedroom gold; movement in the bakery below was slow; Jagged Stone sung in her ears, occasionally drawing her into a dance. Beside her Tikki bobbed her head along to the music, scrolling through Marinette’s Tumblr, giggling at cat videos and watching cooking posts in fascination.

“I didn’t realise how many new recipes people had come up with!” The kwami said, eyes wide with curiosity. “I don’t know what jelly is but I love it already.”

“Maybe I’ll make some up for you for dessert,” Marinette suggested. “We can mix it with ice cream, maybe some cake.”

Tikki gasped excitedly and gave a happy little wiggle. Her wielder chuckled, turning back to her designs. Tongue peeking out from between her teeth, she continued sketching. _So a solid blue base, with green striped hems, and green tassels_. She tilted her head. _Should I make it longer?_

“Marinette!” Tikki squeaked, holding the phone up for her to see. “Akuma!”

Dropping the pencil, Marinette grabbed her phone and scanned the notification. “Akuma… Rue de Monttessuy… thank you Akuma Alert!” Leaving her phone on her desk, she shot up, and in a pink flash Ladybug was scrambling up through her skylight.

Leaping onto the next rooftop, she threw out her yo-yo, catching it on a chimney and yanking hard, flying over to the roof across the street. She slid open the yo-yo as she ran. “Come on, Chat,” she urged, eyes flitting away from the screen to make sure she wouldn’t run into a wall or off a building, before dropping back to the communicator in her hand. “Pick up…”

“Ladybug?” Chat’s tired face popped up onscreen.

“There’s an akuma, kitty, didn’t you get an alert?”

He cursed under his breath, glancing around him. “No, sorry. Where?”

“Rue de Monttessuy. Can you make it?”

“I’ll do my best, Bug.” With that the conversation ended, and Ladybug swung down off the building she was on, searching for the akuma. Skipping ahead of her, decked out from head-to-toe in princess paraphernalia, was a small girl, a glittering crown resting atop her long brown curls that bounced on her shoulders. Ladybug glanced around her, taking note of the multiple people surrounding her clad in gowns and tiaras. _Really Hawk Moth? Another child?_ Sighing softly, she tightened her grip on her yo-yo, taking the opportunity to examine the akuma. On the girl’s back fluttered a pair of gossamer fairy wings; in her hand she waved a wand, shooting brightly coloured flashes of light at anything and everything, leaving the recipients dressed in jewels and finery. One bin in particular was decked out like Cinderella.

“So, tiara or wand?” Ladybug pondered, edging closer while the akuma’s back was turned. “Hey, what’s your name?” She called out, spinning her yo-yo rapidly at her side.

The akuma turned, and Ladybug resisted the urge to coo at her. _Well aren’t you adorable_. “Hello Ladybug,” the akuma giggled, cheeks dusted with pink. “I’m the Fairy Godmother, and I’m gonna make everyone a princesh! Can I have your Miraculoush?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ladybug replied, stepping closer. Anger clouded the akuma’s face, and she stomped her foot.

“But I want them!” She yelled, pouting angrily. “Give them to me! Now!”

Ladybug shook her head. “Not happening. Sorry.”

Outraged, the Fairy Godmother screeched, and her wings suddenly looked a lot less fragile, her wand a lot sharper. A violent red spread across her dress, bleeding into her skin as her pupils grew bigger and bigger, until eventually her eyes were inky pools. The tiara nestled in her hair, however, did not change. _Gotcha_.

The akuma launched herself at Ladybug, who leapt up and away onto a nearby rooftop. She was about to follow when she was distracted by the arrival of a certain feline superhero. “Chat!” She squealed, her anger instantly melting away and transforming her back. “Here, kitty kitty!”

Chat approached her apprehensively, eying the wand in her hand cautiously. “Hello, your highness. What can I do for you?”

“Just stand there,” the Fairy Godmother instructed, peering at his face. “I know just the princesh for you!”

Chat darted out of the way of her wand, deftly avoiding the flash of light. Ladybug jumped down, casting her yo-yo out and wrapping it around the akuma’s legs. Tugging hard, she sent the akuma toppling backwards, and Chat leapt forward to grab the wand from her hand.

“No, Chat, it’s in the tiara!” The spotted heroine shouted, but Chat had already grabbed onto it. The Fairy Godmother shrieked, and blasted him in the face with blaze of pink. Sparkles surrounded him, and suddenly a pink gown clashed with his black suit, his golden hair long and flowing, stretching out behind him. Ladybug stared at him.

“Oh my god, you’re…”

“Don’t say it –”

“ _Rapunzel_.”

Taking advantage of Ladybug’s momentary distraction, the Fairy Godmother jabbed her wand at the spotted heroine, and a flash of light later she was stumbling back, the yo-yo loosening around the akuma’s legs enough for her to scramble away. Ladybug’s legs snapped together, making her fall inelegantly to the ground, wrapped in green scales; a purple shell bra materialised over her chest; her hair brightened into a fiery scarlet, escaping her bunches and tumbling down her back. Chat stopped trying to bundle his hair into his arms and stared at her.

“Well isn’t this a –”

“Chat I swear to god –”

“ _Fishy situation_.”

Ladybug threw her yo-yo at his head. “Focus.” She glanced around, but the Fairy Godmother had vanished. “Crap. She can’t have gotten far – Chat?”

“On it, m’lady.”

He vaulted off, hair tucked under one arm, and she sighed, staring down at her new fishtail as the emerald fins twitched. “Lucky Charm!” She called. Into her hands fell a glittering, gilded crown, covered in shining jewels. “Fit for a princess,” she murmured, turning it over in her hands. Gingerly raising her tail, she huffed in annoyance. “How the hell do I walk with this?”

 

* * *

 

Chat Noir leapt over the rooftop, groaning as his hair slipped from his grasp yet again and rippled like a waterfall to the ground. _Damn it, why is my hair so silky and soft!_ Grasping tightly onto the thick hair at the nape of his neck, he started to braid, taking care to mind his claws. _How do girls do it?_ He wondered as the braid wound over his shoulder. Once it reached his knees he decided that was enough, and set out racing along the roof again. Pausing as he reached the edge, he scanned the street below him, eyes landing on a small figure skipping along the pavement – he could see the Fairy Godmother’s smile from where he was, and almost wanted to coo at her cuteness. _Focus_ , Ladybug’s voice reminded him.

Jumping down, he crouched in front of the akuma. “Fancy meeting you here, your highness!” He grinned. “Although I have to say, as much as I appreciated the makeover I thought black was much more my colour.”

“But you’re Rapunzel!” She giggled. “And Rapunzel doeshn’t wear black, shilly!”

“You’re completely right,” Chat remarked, “but as a princess, I should have a tiara, right?”

The Fairy Godmother gasped. “Don’t you have one?”

“No.” Chat shook his head forlornly, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. “Hey, yours is _beautiful_. Do you think I could borrow it?”

She clapped her hands together. “Oh, you’d look sho pretty!” A purple mask flared into life around her eyes, and she frowned. “But Hawky, he’d look sho good! Why can’t he wear it?”

While the Fairy Godmother argued with Hawk Moth, Ladybug appeared next to her feline partner. “What did I miss?” She asked, fingers still wrapped around her yo-yo, which hung from a chimney overhead. She looked him over with a smirk. “Nice hair, by the way.”

“Thank you, bugaboo.” He winked at her. “She’s yelling at Hawk Moth right now.”

“Okay, so plan: I get her to swap her tiara for this… monstrosity. You Cataclysm it.” She paused. “I’ll be honest, I’m tired, I’ve got a meeting in half an hour, a lot of homework, and _now I have a bloody tail_. Not even a cool tail, a goddamn _fishtail_.”

Chat chuckled. “Need some help getting over to her?”

“Nah, you lure her over here. Weirdly enough I think I’ll just stay put.”

“You mean you’ll _hang out_?”

“I’m going to punch you.” 

Her partner shot her a grin – _a shit-eating grin_ , she corrected – and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Flora, I found a better crown, so it’s okay!”

The Fairy Godmother looked over at them, gaze landing on the sparkling accessory in Ladybug’s hand. Her eyes widened. “Oh wow! Pretty!” She exclaimed, wondering over to them and making grabby hands. “I want it! Give!”

“But you already have one,” Ladybug pointed out, “and Chat doesn’t. That seems unfair.”

The akuma hesitated, gnawing at her lip. One hand reached up to her hair where her own tiara sat. “But I’m not allowed to give thish one up. Thish isn’t fair!”

“Tell you what,” Chat said, plucking the bejewelled crown from his partner’s grasp and dangling it from a finger in front of the Fairy Godmother, “we can swap. How about that? Don’t you want this _gorgeous_ , sparkly tiara that only the best of princesses can wear?”

The girl’s face brightened, and she whipped the accessory off her head and shoved it at Ladybug. “I do! I do, I do, I do!”

Chat held the crown over her head, grinning, then said, “Cataclysm!” as he pressed a claw to the item in his spotted partner’s grip. It rusted and fell to pieces, expelling a purple butterfly; Ladybug snapped her yo-yo shut over it, cleansed it, and released it. Tossing the remaining garish item into the air, the pair of superheroes grinned at each other.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” They chorused, and a cloud of insects swept over the streets. Around them, the people swamped in heavy dresses and gleaming jewellery transformed back to their everyday selves; Ladybug sighed in relief as her tail vanished and Chat pouted as he felt his shaggy hair.

“I was just starting to like it,” he said almost mournfully.

Ladybug laughed beside him. “You can always grow it out, kitty,” she pointed out with a smile. Chat hummed.

“Yeah, maybe.” His partner’s earrings gave off a shrill warning. “Time’s up bugaboo.”

Her eyes widened. “Shit, the meeting. Bug out!”

With that she gave a sharp tug on her yo-yo, sending herself flying into the air. Racing away along the rooftops, she landed on the school, surveying the courtyard. _Alya’s not here yet, I have time_. Dashing in the direction of her house, she landed on her balcony in the nick of time and fell into a crouch behind the half wall as pink light engulfed her. Marinette wasted no time and scrambled over to the hatch, dropping onto her bed and forgoing the stairs in favour of jumping to the floor. Rushing to her bag, she slung it over her shoulder, Tikki zipping into it in a red blur, and swiped her sketchbook from her desk.

She ran downstairs, through the kitchen and darted down to the bakery. “Hey maman, I’m off to the meeting!”

“Have fun sweetie!” Sabine called as her daughter passed her.

Bolting out onto the street, Marinette dug her phone out of her pocket. 5:27… Doable. Tucking it into her capris, she sped up, nimbly darting out of the way of pedestrians with muttered apologies. As she reached the steps to the school her eyes fell on a familiar face. Alya was sat on the top step, tapping away at her phone occasionally as she hand flew across the pad of paper in her lap. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, bangs tucked behind her ears, Rena Rouge-esque. She glanced up to meet her friend’s gaze.

“Cutting it a bit close,” Alya teased, rising and stretching as Marinette made her way up to her side.

“Me? Late?” Marinette gasped, pressing a hand over her heart in fake shock. “The very insinuation!”

The pair giggled as they made their way into the school and up to Madame Bustier’s classroom. The teacher smiled gently as they entered the room, nodding at them in acknowledgement. Marinette slid into her normal place, flipping open her sketchbook on the desk in front of her; Alya peered over her shoulder as she dropped down beside her.

“Nice banner designs, girl,” she said, hazel gaze drifting over the page.

“Thanks Alya,” Marinette grinned, a pleased blush dusting her cheeks.

Madame Bustier cleared her throat. “Now everyone is here, we can get on with the meeting. Matilda?”

The girl behind Marinette rose, striding to the front of the classroom with a binder in hand. Swivelling to face the rest of the students, she beamed, brown eyes glinting with excitement. “So, I’ve compiled a list of possible themes for the dance. My top three are: Winter Wonderland, Frozen in Time, and Masquerade.” Thumbing through her file, she slid out several pieces of paper and passed them to Madame Bustier, who handed them out.

Marinette took one with a whispered, “Thank you.” Scanning the list appraisingly, she leant towards Alya and muttered under her breath, “What do you think?”

“Well Winter Wonderland _is_ a classic, but that Frozen in Time sounds _super cool_.”

“…Was that a pun?”

“Perhaps.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at her friend, elbowing her lightly as she turned her focus to Matilda, who was going through the list. “So Winter Wonderland would be based more around the decorations – fake snow, snowflake wall decorations, lots of holly and mistletoe, et cetera. On the other hand, Masquerade would have more of a focus on costumes and such, so there would be more of a free reign decorations-wise. In my opinion, Frozen in Time would be a happy medium – we could have food from different eras, a variety of song choice, plus attendees would get to experiment with clothing from different periods.”

“Oh! The photos could be in black and white!” A boy across from her suggested.

Matilda nodded in affirmation, eyes bright. “I love that idea, Leon!”

“Could we skip food from the 50s and 60s?” A voice from the back of the room interjected. “No offense, it was all just really weird, and quite frankly I don’t think anyone could stomach that amount of jelly.”

Laughter rang through the room, and Madame Bustier’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I think that’s an arrangement we can come to.”

A few minutes later of further deliberation, the group came to a decision. “Frozen in Time it is!” The teacher announced, noting it down. “Shall we move onto decorations?”

Marinette raised her hand. “I had some ideas for banners,” she offered, flipping through the pages of her sketchbook as the group surrounded her desk. “Blue and white should be a safe bet – with silver touches? Maybe some glitter… I was also thinking of tablecloths – they could be in snowflake patterns, with lace trim.”

“That sounds amazing, ‘Nette!” Simone, a willowy girl with heavy eyeliner squealed as she clapped her hands together. _In her punk clothes you’d never guess how sunny and cute she is_ , Marinette remarked inwardly. “Oh! And the balloons could have confetti in them!”

Matilda and Leon smiled softly at their girlfriend, matching expressions of adoration adorning their faces. “You’re so adorable,” Leon murmured, rocking forward slightly onto his toes and brushing a faint a kiss to her forehead as Matilda wrapped an arm around her waist. Simone flushed bright red as her girlfriend pressed her face into her shoulder. Behind them a voice _aww_ ed.

“They all sound great, Marinette,” Madame Bustier said. “They’ll work really well.”

“Thanks, Madame,” Marinette grinned, closing her book shut.

The teacher regarded her classroom. Around her, students were packing up and stealthily sliding towards the door. “Well, I think that’s all for today. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?”

“Have a nice evening,” Rowan waved as Madame Bustier left, their normally monotone voice edged with cheerfulness. Alya gasped in fake shock, twisting in her seat to face them.

“Was that actual emotion, Ro? Are you feeling okay?” She reached over to feel their forehead, and they slapped her hand away with a roll of their eyes.

“Ha, ha.” They swung their legs off their desk, stood, stretched, and strode out of the room without a backwards glance. “Later.”

“Eventually I’ll wear them down,” Alya said. She glanced over at her friend, who was staring down at her phone. “Ooo, what’cha _do-ing_?” She asked as the pair rose and joined the remaining students that were making their way out of the room, leaving the happy trio to their own devices.

“Trying to choose which era to dress from,” Marinette muttered, scrolling through Pinterest. “I’m pretty sure I’m going for a 50s look. What do you think?”

“Oh my god. Girl. You could wear a poodle skirt!” Alya grinned teasingly at her. Marinette shot her an unimpressed look, which slowly melted into careful consideration. _Actually…_

She shook her head. “No, I’m feeling more swing dressy – I really love halter neck dresses.”

Alya shrugged, pulling her friend out of the way of a pole as they walked towards the doors. “I mean they’re cute, I guess – but poodle skirts, girl. _Poodle skirts_. They have _poodles_ on them. _Dogs_! On _skirts_!”

“You know I’m more of a cat person, Alya,” Marinette pointed out, a smile tugging at her lips at the inside joke. “Anyway, what era are you picking?”

“Oh, definitely the 20s. Can’t you see me in a flapper dress dripping with sequins, pearls slung around my neck and one of those head – ornament – thingies?” Alya struck a flashy pose, pouting as she jutted her chin out while miming smoking from a cigarette, twirling imaginary beads between her fingers. “Not to mention how good my legs look in fishnets.”

“Nino’s going to have an aneurysm,” Marinette commented as they neared the bakery.

“Damn right. I can see it now – me, hands in gloves up to my elbows, kneeling on the ground in front of him, fingers wrapped around –”

“La la la!” Marinette cried, clamping her hands down over her ears. “I do not need to hear this!”

Alya laughed. “I was talking about those really long cigarettes. Like, those ridiculously long ones.”

“Please tell me that wasn’t a euphemism.”

Alya simply winked at her, and she playfully shoved her away with a groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look whos back its me
> 
> also im still trying to work out how to write fighting scenes so uh thats why its kinda shit lmao


	8. Chapter 8

“So his dad _definitely_ isn’t home?”

Alya linked her arm through Marinette’s as the two walked along the street. A gentle breezed ruffled her hair and the skirt of Marinette’s dress; the sun above beamed down at them, a rare occurrence during these later months. _Figures Adrien’s party would have the perfect weather_. Marinette couldn’t help the smile worming its way onto her face.

“Do you seriously think Adrien would even be allowed to have one friend round, let alone a _party_ , if ol’ grumpy Agreste was here?” Alya pointed out, arching a brow at her.

Marinette hummed. “True.” Her fingers brushed the handle of the bag slung on her shoulder. She’d swapped out her normal purse for a slightly bigger handbag, because… “What swimsuit are you wearing again?”

“That bikini top you made me – with the cool straps, you remember – and some white bottoms I found. You?”

“Well, I found an old one piece of mine that I improved.”

Alya grinned, excitement sparkling in her eyes ringed with eyeliner. “I bet you look smoking in it, girl.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but shot her a smirk back. “Maybe I do.”

The girls laughed as they approached the Agreste mansion. A cold, tall iron gate loomed over them, still intimidating despite the fact it was open and decorated in multicoloured balloons. They shared a look as they passed through. _Rose_. They made their way up the drive, then the steps, then through the front door, pausing only to glance at the streamers strung everywhere – _how did Rose even_ reach _that high?_ – before crossing the atrium to the door to the indoor pool.

Slipping inside, Marinette’s eyes scanned the room as Alya dragged her along. Perched on the edge of the pool, Chloé was flushed bright pink as Mauve smirked flirtatiously up at her, settled between the blonde’s legs with her hands brushing her thighs; Marc and Nathaniel were curled up together on a wide pool chair, legs intertwined as Nathaniel sketched and Marc looked on fondly; Juleka, Rose, Luka and Myléne were playing in the pool, Juleka letting out a surprisingly high-pitched shriek as her girlfriend send a wave of water into her face. A table of drinks and snacks had been set up just behind the chairs, where Ivan was pouring out two drinks, and Max was snacking whilst tapping away at his phone, nodding his head along to the music. _I’m glad people are liking Luka’s music_.

“Nino!” Alya called, pulling her friend along as she strode briskly towards him.

“Hey Al,” he said, turning from his conversation with Kim to press a light kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. “Hey, dude.”

“Hi Nino.” Marinette smiled. She glanced downwards. “Love the outfit,” she added with a smirk.

He struck a pose, showing off his Chat Noir trunks, and Alya rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually wearing those,” she sighed, eyeing them with disbelief.

“Wearing what?”

Marinette turned her head, and had to push down the urge to squeak. Adrien had appeared at her side, clad only in a blue pair of swim shorts. She gulped and determinedly refused to stare at his chest. _You have self-control_ , dammit, she thought. _No looking at his muscular, defined, sculpted-from-marble chest…_

Out loud she said, “Nino’s rocking some Chat Noir merch.”

Adrien’s face lit up. “Oh my god.” His eyes shot downward, and he laughed. “Nino. _Dude_.” They high fived, and Alya shook her head.

“Boys,” She remarked, raising her eyebrows at Marinette, who grinned in reply, and peeled off her top. “Well, I’m going swimming – you guys coming?”

Nino nodded in affirmation, jumping into the pool after her, and Marinette made to follow, when she noticed Adrien hanging back. He eyed the water with no small amount of disdain, slowly edging further away and dropping into a pool chair. “I think I’m good,” he said, settling back with a sigh.

“Have to keep up that perfect model tan, huh?” Alya teased.

Adrien laughed awkwardly. “Something like that,” he called, rubbing the back of his neck. Marinette tilted her head at him, then turned around to shoot Alya a look. The redhead shrugged at her, before gasping as Nino splashed water into her face, spinning around, and responding in kind.

Marinette walked over and stretched out in the chair beside the blond, humming softly to herself as she wriggled out of her dress and folded it, leaving it in her bag. She grinned at Tikki, who was checking her Pinterest page, and left the bag at the side of the seat, relaxing with a contented sigh. Adrien looked over at her in confusion.

“Aren’t you going swimming?”

“Aren’t you?” She countered teasingly, flicking her eyes over to meet his.

“Nah,” he said, looking decidedly uncomfortable at the thought. “I’m, uh… not a big fan of water.”

Marinette didn’t press the issue, switching instead to simpler matters. “Are you going to the winter dance?”

“Maybe – if father lets me go,” Adrien replied, “though I’m pretty sure you need a date to go to a dance, right?”

“Not necessarily! Alix said she’s going, and she’s not one for dating. Sabrina is too – though that might be Chloé’s influence,” she added as an afterthought. “Oh! Luka said he’d stop by, and he won’t have a date.”

“You mean you’re not going with him?” Adrien asked.

Marinette stared at him incredulously. “Me and _Luka_?” She looked over at the older boy, who was laughing as Rose dunked his sister beneath the water. “No. If you had asked me when I was 14, I’d be a blushing mess, but…” She sighed. “Now? Not so much.” She turned to face Adrien properly. “He’s not my type.”

Adrien ignored the faint fluttering in his stomach as he nodded. “Cool.”

“Happy birthday, by the way!” Marinette said, reaching down into her bag and retrieving the carefully-wrapped gift.

Adrien beamed at her, gently taking the package from her, his hands brushing hers, feather-light against her skin. “Thank you, Marinette,” he breathed, running his fingers over the paper. “You didn’t need to.”

“I know,” she shrugged, “but I wanted to.”

The two shared a smile, Marinette pushing away the butterflies wreaking havoc inside her, Adrien not noticing the slight skip in his heartbeat.

 

* * *

 

Ladybug leapt from rooftop to rooftop, revelling in the cool night air washing over her. She loved nights like this. Moisture hung in the air from the day’s earlier shower, light and refreshing; the sun had long since set, and the sky above was lacking in clouds, revealing the navy canvas overhead dotted with sparkling gems of starlight. A touch of a breeze entangled its fingers in her hair and caressed her cheeks. Eventually she swung herself up atop the Eiffel Tower and gazed down at the city spread out at her feet.

“I don’t think you’ll ever stop needing to be saved,” she muttered, staring out at the City of Lights as she turned the gift over in her hands.

“It’s a good job we’re not going anywhere then, huh?"

Ladybug turned to face her partner, a smile coming easily to her face. She tucked the present behind her back, clasped tightly in her grip as she walked towards him. “Good evening, Chat.”

Chat Noir dropped into a dramatic bow, grasping her free hand in his and pressing a kiss to it. “Looking radiant as ever, m’lady.” He shot her a wink.

Rolling her eyes, she removed her hand from his with a small smile, moving to tap his nose. “I bet you say that to every animal-themed superhero you meet,” she teased.

He hummed, pondering as he tapped a claw to his chin. “Well, Carapace is _definitely_ a looker, I’ll give you that.”

“Why would you choose Carapace when Rena Rouge is right there?”

“C’mon, bugaboo, you know you’re the only girl for me.”

Ladybug sighed, a good-natured grin on her face. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” She flicked his bell playfully, before presenting the gift with a flourish. “Happy birthday.”

Chat gaped at her. “You – you got me a present?” He asked, reaching for it slowly, as though afraid she would take it back.

“Of course – you’re my partner, you silly kitty. I know your birthday’s sometime this month, so I made you a little something.” She watched as he gradually, carefully, unwrapped it, revealing the gift she’d painstakingly created.

“Bug,” he breathed, staring down at the Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls resting in his palm. “These are _amazing_.” He looked up. “I _love_ them.”

Ladybug flushed with pride, ignoring the faint ripple of butterflies inside her at his wide-eyed gaze. “Thank you,” she said, a pleased edge tinging her words. “I’m glad you like them. It took me a while to get your eyes just right.”

“Well, I _do_ have rather beautiful eyes,” he preened, fluttering his eyelashes at her. She groaned quietly, but shared a smile with him.

The two heroes sat on the metal support, Chat Noir pressing the dolls to his chest and Ladybug leaning back on her hands, letting her legs swing slightly. They watched over the city beneath them, listening to the distant roar of engines and fading sounds of late-night shoppers. Lights flickered on and off, mimicking the constantly changing sky of stars above. Ladybug began to sing softly under her breath, lying back and cushioning her head with her hands; she drew a leg up, leaving the other to dangle over the edge of the beam. Her foot tapped along to the tune in her mind.

“What’s the song?” Chat asked. It was familiar to him, though he couldn’t pinpoint how.

“It’s a friend’s song. It was playing at a party I went to, and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Must be a good song if it’s caught your attention,” Chat smirked, “since I know you have _such_ good taste in music.”

She kicked her leg out, knocking her foot against his leg. “Oi. My music taste is amazing. You just have terrible hearing.” He kicked her foot in retaliation, and the pair grinned at each other.

Chat inhaled deeply. “You know I loathe to cut our dates short –”

“ _Patrols_.”

“– but unfortunately I have a long day tomorrow, and so must bid you adieu.” He rose, balancing easily on the beam, and pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand, before taking off, his dolls held tightly to him. Ladybug watched him disappear, before swinging away home, cutting a scarlet streak through the night, the wind whistling in her ears and the silver moon gleaming above her, lighting her way home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no editing in my house we die like warriors
> 
> (also yeah i know its filler just bear w me okay)


End file.
